


Chef's Special: The Kick Of The Day

by Tyranno



Category: Naruto, One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running from enemies in Konoha, Naruto boarded the Baratie as a quick escape from the island, but he'd never expected to be accepted so quickly and so fully. Four years later and it comes under attack and the one to defend it is...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chef's Special: The Kick Of The Day

“RED SHOES ZEFF!” 

The wooden door imploded in the wake of the skinny little thing, bringing showers of seawater and dust with him. He skidded to a halt in front of the tall, stiff man, fixing his eyes on the huge, looming chef’s hat. 

What had been a calm, warm evening stopped in its tracks. All eyes in the Baratie fixed on the young thing, unsure of what to make of him. He was thin and scruffy, like an alley cat, dwarfed in his loose, drenched clothing that peeled from his twiggy arms. He looked bright though, or maybe that was just his hair. 

Everyone watched and waited. Even Sanji ducked his head out of the kitchen at the sudden silence. 

The youngster’s knees hit the floor with a crack and he set his forehead on the dusty floor. “Take me on as your apprentice!” 

Zeff looked down at him. His face, old and wrinkled and dark, knitted together in a frown. “Can you cook?” He asked, eventually. 

The youngster lifted his head and nodded vigorously. “Yes! Mainly noodles and sometimes curry but one time I cooked fish and—it was okay.” 

“Hmph. We won’t pay you, and you’ll be chore boy for a year at least.” Zeff watched him carefully. 

The kid relaxed, shrinking back on himself. “Th-That’s fine! I don’t want any money.” 

Zeff raised an eyebrow. “Get up. Go talk to Sanji, he’ll be your mentor for now.” 

The boy jerked up to his feet hurried, as if on instinct. He glanced quickly around the room, before dashing towards the kitchen. 

“Wait, egg-yolk head!” Zeff called. The boy froze and looked over, worried. “What’s your name?” 

“Naruto!” He called, the smallest of smiles lighting on his face. 

Zeff waved him away, and the kid scampered off. 

Naruto saw the boy poking his head out of the kitchen, and he ducked his head. “S-sorry to bother you, I’m looking for Sanji.” 

The boy was about Naruto’s age, tall and annoyed-looking, with impossibly long legs. He glared at Naruto. “You’re looking at him, shitty-egg.” 

“You—You’re Sanji!” Naruto exclaimed, but backpedalled when he saw the boy’s expression darken, “I-I mean, that means you’re a really g-great cook a-and yet you’re only my age!” 

The boy smiled, quirking his weird eyebrows up. “Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you, just cuz you’re little, chore boy.” 

“Yes sir.” Naruto answered on reflex, standing straighter. 

Sanji gave him an odd glance. “Eh, call me Sanji, shitty chore boy. C’mon.” 

He led Naruto into the kitchen. The little egg-headed ruffian looked like a kid in a candy shop. He looked around at the pans and cookers and knives and food in a dreamy state of wonder, excited. He laughed a little, turning to Sanji with the brightest grin ever slapped on his scruffy mug. 

Sanji’s eyes dropped to the puddle of seawater around Naruto’s bare feet and the grubby footprints on the tiles.

“On, second thoughts...” Sanji frowned at the kid. “You’re pretty gross.” 

Naruto took a step back, hurt playing on his face. “Hey!” 

“I mean you’re grubby and scruffy, in no fit state for a kitchen—out!” Sanji herded the kid out of the kitchen and down a corridor. 

Sanji led the boy down the corridor, keeping an eye on him. He’d probably fit in Sanji’s clothes, although he didn’t like the idea of sharing. Where had this kid even come from? They were in the middle of the goddamn ocean! They were about two day’s journey from the nearest island and the only customers were a naval ship, and they didn’t tend to cart around kids much. Maybe he was a stowaway? Or a dangerous pirate, posing as an eleven-year-old, hell-bent on destroying seafaring restaurants and was waiting for the perfect moment to unleash his ungodly, devastating powers on them all!!

Sanji glanced at the little ragamuffin. Nah. Kid was too short. Kind of weak-looking too. 

“Where are we going?” Naruto asked. 

“Bath. You stink.” Sanji sped up. He needed to get back to the kitchen cuz he’s not sure but he think he may’ve left something cooking. 

Naruto jogged to keep up, sticking his tongue out. “How far? I’m tired.” He complained loudly. 

“Where did you even come from?” Sanji wondered aloud. 

Naruto faded into an uneasy, restless state. “Konoha.” 

Sanji tilted his head. It was almost like the neon-blonde was admitting something distasteful or rude. It was weird, and he was curious. “Why’d you leave?” 

“Uh...” Naruto scratched at his wrists. “Stuff... happened. It was a nice place though. Really, really... green.” He smiled a bit. It was true, in his mind; Konoha had been, in a word, green. Brilliantly, beautifully, wonderfully green, green enough to make you drunk on it. The streets and roads and people and places and moods had been green. Not always literally, but... fresh. Clean and new and optimistic. 

Except... Naruto scratched the back of his neck. Orochimaru hadn’t been green. He didn’t let himself think too much about him. 

“You ’kay, green sprout?” Sanji looked at him, worried. 

Naruto beamed at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. How far is it?” 

“Just over there. I’ll get some of my clothes I guess.” Sanji stretched out his shoulders, pointing to the bathrooms. “You okay bathing on your own?” 

Naruto nodded. 

Later, when Sanji returned with new clothes, Naruto was a completely different colour. His skin was still brownish, tanned and a bit peeling, but his hair was brighter and bushier, and his eyes seemed brighter. Sanji shoved the clothes at him. 

“Thanks.” Naruto pulled them on haphazardly, wriggling into the trousers like a snake. 

“What’s that thing on your belly?” Sanji asked, lighting a cigarette, generally he wasn’t allowed them around food. He’d only seen it for a second or so, but it was largish, complex and sprawling and black. 

“Uh—,” Naruto grinned awkwardly. “It’s a... tattoo.” 

Sanji frowned. “Arent you a bit young for a tattoo?” 

Naruto put a hand to his stomach nervously. “Aren’t you a bit young for cigarettes?” 

Sanji rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Come on, shitty-egg-head, I’ll show you ’round the kitchen.” 

Naruto grinned. He was going to like it here. 

*

It was another good day over. Every other night seemed to be a good one, days floated by in a peaceful, warm breeze, as the seasons changed from spring to summer. Despite being so close to the grand line, the weather had been pleasant and calm. 

It was good. Very good. Naruto liked it here a lot, a lot more than he’d expected. Baratie had been his one-way ticket out of what was left of Konoha, not a second home. He’d more gone here as a whim, a slapdash plan to get to the next island unnoticed. Maybe a few islands over, but not for three years. 

As he walked out onto the roof and saw the stars, not for the first time, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. So soon after its fall, he’d swapped it so easily. He’d slotted easily into the role of a cook, barely mourning them. It had been too hard to think about, so he hadn’t. He’d forgotten. He’d let his friends die both in reality and in memory. 

He’d thought this before. Many times. He knew the circles and routes of memory lane probably better than any real place. Probably better even than his home village. 

Naruto stretched and shook out his shoulders, working out the tension. He scrubbed a hand over his face, sitting down heavily on the wooden roof. 

The stars were the same. 

An odd mix of regret and comfort pooled in his stomach. 

He had had to leave. He couldn’t have fight without revealing himself, and if he had revealed himself the whole of the Akatsuki would come crashing down on him before he could take another breath. And if he had died, all those sacrifices would be for nothing. He couldn’t let that happen. 

But it ached. 

He curled his fingers around the railings, slotting his legs through the gaps and resting his forehead against the cool metal. The ache deep in his chest because something vital was missing and could never be replaced. The ache of the crack he could never let heal. It was deep, deep, deep down, his very core. 

The moon was the same. 

He didn’t know if that made it better or worse. There was a moon; he had no one to share it with; no one to stretch out on the grass with him, no one to chase around the winding streets of Konoha with. He didn’t even know if they were still alive. 

The door opened behind him, creaking as an inhumanely long-legged figure moved behind him silently. 

Sanji. Naruto didn’t make a move, but he closed his eyes. He was being selfish, feeling sorry for himself. His friends didn’t give their all and more for him to mope about. It was pathetic. 

Naruto kicked his legs out, as Sanji lit up beside him. 

“What’s wrong, egg-head?” 

Naruto pulled his legs through the railings, brushing himself off. He didn’t want to have this conversation, at all. Ever. He made for the door. 

Sanji caught his wrist. Of course. “What’s wrong, egg-head?” 

“I’m fine.” Naruto glared. Sanji was a good friends. Brash and disgustingly rude when not around women, but a good friend. But he couldn’t tell him squat. 

Sanji raised a curled eyebrow, waiting. 

Naruto seriously considered ripping his arm from Sanji’s grasp and storming off, but he couldn’t. Not just that Sanji would probably follow him to the ends of the earth ’cause he was just that kind of guy, but because Sanji didn’t deserve that. Sanji was a good friend, probably one of the best he’d had. 

Well. Naruto sighed, and went back to the railings. “There was this guy I knew.” 

Sanji waited, drawing his legs together and standing tall. 

“He was a bit of a bastard.” Naruto didn’t really know what to say. “He... wanted to kill his, his brother. I knew he shouldn’t... so I followed him, when he—oh, there was this other guy, much, much older, and creepier call Orochimaru—when he went to that guy for help. To get stronger.” 

Sanji nodded. 

Naruto’s words blocked up his throat, juddering out in blocks and half-formed sentences. “And Orochimaru wanted his eyes, but when he got me too, he got Sas—the guy who was my friend—Sasuke to, eh, finish me off. It didn’t really work. I—I went ballistic... crippled Orochimaru. Sasuke left the island while I was in prison. I gotta find him, he’ll do something he regrets and—” Naruto sighed. “I don’t know.” 

Sanji said nothing. 

*

“Gah! I don’t get it!” Naruto slammed the bowl down heavily, soup spilling over the edges. His head hit the table with a heavy thunk. “I did everything that stupid ero-chef did! I copied him exactly! It still tastes awful.” 

Patty sipped a spoonful experimentally, and when it didn’t kill him he sipped another. “Ah, Naruto, it tastes fine!” 

“Fine...” Naruto muttered sourly. “...but not perfect like Sanji’s.” 

Patty huffed and glared down at him. “Naruto, you can’t make art by coping other people! You need to branch out on your own!! Piracy’s the same! If you just copy someone, you’ll never be up to your own standard!” 

Naruto frowned. “Really?”

Patty nodded and patted his chest. “Rea—”

“Actually.” A familiar voice said, “It tastes bland because you forgot the pinch of ground ginger.” 

Sanji leant over Naruto and flicked a few specks to ginger into the green soup. He stirred it in, and passed a spoonful to Naruto. 

Naruto tasted it. “Ah, this is exactly the same!” 

“See?” Sanji set his own bowl down, and began to eat. 

Patty stared at him, and then fixed his gaze on Naruto. “But my point still stands! You can’t improve by just copying that crap-server!” 

Naruto nodded seriously. “Does that mean I can’t use recipes?” 

“No. I learnt my skill from using the old man’s recipes, until I knew enough to branch out on my own.” Sanji sighed, flipping out a cigarette. 

Naruto frowned into his soup. “So I copy you until I don’t have to?” 

Sanji nodded. “That’s the level of it.” 

 

*

 

“Naruto, my faithful disciple, today is the day,” Sanji spread his fingers in the air, “The day that I’m finally willing to teach you the art of pleasing women.” 

“Yuck,” Naruto stuck his tongue out, and shovelled in some more leftovers. “Women are boring!” He said, spraying food over the table. He was feeling a lot better. 

“Your ignorance is close to blasphemy. Women are the angels sent down from heaven, they are the beautiful meaning to life.” Sanji forgoes telling Naruto off for speaking with his mouth full, the scallywag hadn’t listened the last one-hundred times. 

Naruto glanced at the heavens, wondering why he’d chosen a nuthouse for a home. “Yeah, okay. It’s not like you’re going to ever shush ’bout it.” 

“Hm. I don’t like teaching such an unappreciative ruffian, but for lack of a better apprentice...” Sanji stood up. “Come on, green-horn.” 

Naruto followed him to the customer area, but waited at the door, watching him go from a distance. 

It was a dusky summer’s evening, people slow-moving and carefree, talking sporadically and chinking glasses. The evening’s sun shone brilliant pink through the open doors, silhouetting a slim, graceful lady. 

“So nice to see you Roxanne~!” Sanji swooned, spreading his arms wide. 

Roxanne smiled, resting a hand on her hip. “Hi Sanji, I’ve missed you!” Roxanne looked something almost like a female version of Sanji, all legs, skinny and tall, but still maintaining a smooth grace. 

“I’ve reserved a seat for you, my angel~” Sanji gently took a thin arm and led her to their best free table, pulling out her seat for her and smoothing the table cloth. “What do you desire~?”

“The usual, thanks Sanji.” Roxanne grins at him. 

“I have it already prepared, my sweet beauty~!” Sanji swooped away. 

He returned holding the soup carefully to his chest, smiling like a lovesick fool. He put the soup down softly, fluttering his eyelashes. “Is there anything more you’d like, my queen?” 

“Nothing, thanks.” Roxanne scooped up a piece of bread. 

Just as Sanji was leaving, she said, “Ah, Sanji?” 

“Yes, my—” Time stopped. Sanji started, rage rising in him like high water, blood boiling. A spider, huge and furry, moved gently over Roxanne’s fingers. Sanji roared. “NARU—please excuse me my love! I’ll be only a minute~—NARUTO! COME HERE YOU SHIT-COOK!” 

Sanji darted after a streak of orange, howling threats of an inhumane nature for trying to scare a beautiful young woman. 

Roxanne smiled softly after him, gently running a finger over the spider’s soft back. What funny kids. 

*

Naruto was late. 

Again. 

And something was definitely wrong. 

The Baratie was wounded, and what looked like a dozen broken up ships skirted around her, torn up and wild-looking. A battle was raging. 

Naruto felt sick and shaky. 

He couldn’t fight. God knows if the Baratie was that bashed up this wasn’t some two-bit pirate gang. This was a proper battle. He couldn’t wave a few pans and kick some weak ass. He’d have to fight. He’d have to... His hand curled around his jacket, over his stomach, and squeezed. 

He couldn’t. 

He had to. 

What he couldn’t do was leave or not fight. God knows Sanji’s a good kicker, but he’s cook, not a fighter. Naruto, though, was born a warrior. It ran in his blood and blazed in his eyes, and he knew that he had to. Baratie may have not been his first home, but it was a damn good second one. 

He pulled himself down from the rails, and for a second wondered if he could do it anymore. 

His feet met the water, and stayed. He put weight on them, and they stayed. 

Naruto was off, a streak of speed, loping over choppy waves and only losing his footing a couple of times. He couldn’t fail. 

He wouldn’t. 

Part of the Baratie’s fin was on fire. Flames licked the polished wood, the wood he’d spent hours polishing himself, rubbing until his hands were raw and aching. 

As he sped towards it, a man stood in front of what looked like Sanji. A big man, round, with heavy white armour and large pearls. 

He ran faster, barrelling into him. 

The man stumbled, and both of them tumbled into the ocean. 

Naruto leapt out, scrambling back aboard the fin of the Baratie, crouching cautiously. He watched as the armoured man struggled, weighed down by his heavy, oddly-shaped armour. “Pearl!!” The odd pirates chorused from the ocean, “Just drop your armour, Pearl!!” 

“Gum Gum...” 

A thin shadow stretched across the flames, and Naruto glanced up. What looked like an extremely long, stretched leg blotted out the sky. He snapped out of his daze just long enough to scramble aside, as the leg crashed down. 

“...Battle-axe!!” 

The wood shattered, splintering into heavy ragged chunks with a huge crack. The ocean dipped and swayed from the impact, sending Naruto tumbling into the water, nearly colliding with a pirate. 

Naruto slipped and shuddered, trying to claw his way onto a floating piece of wood. He levered himself up, gaining traction on the water’s surface, pulling himself into a crouch. 

He straightened up. 

“Is he—?!” The pirate reached out to grab his ankle, but hesitated. 

“He’s walking on water!” Another one announced. 

“Chore boy what are you— Naruto?” Sanji glanced over at him. His eyes may be slightly fuzzy, but there was no mistaking that magnificent crown of yellow hair. 

Naruto stepped onto a huge fragment of wood, looking at Sanji’s injuries. Blood trickled down half of his face, it dribbled from his chin. 

“There’s nothing you can do now!” The Pearl-guy announced, heaving himself onto a piece of mast. “Not when we’ve got our hostage!!”

Naruto started. Red shoes Zeff knelt behind Sanji, a gun pressed to his temple. The man with the gun turned his eyes on Naruto, dark and calculating. “You can walk on water?” 

Naruto glanced back at Pearl. Should he just kill him? He didn’t want him to turn up later or to catch him off-guard while he fought the other pirates. He turned back towards the man with the gun. He didn’t have time. He pressed the kunai into his palm. He only had two, and they were dulled with age. 

The man turned to Sanji, listening his grip on his gun. “Sanji, I hoped you’d get off this ship without getting hurt. But I guess that’s not going to happen.” 

Sanji pulled a cigarette from his chest pocket. “No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Then the best I can offer you...” The man’s gun clattered to the ground and he flipped Dung-bells into his hands, “...is to kill you myself.” 

Sanji lit his cigarette with a sigh. “Thank you. Eat worms.” 

Naruto glanced around, worriedly. Sanji was injured, and even at full-strength he trained his hands in cooking more than his legs in fighting. A heavy-set, metal-covered man shifted, and stood. His build was impressive, and he held himself like a proven warrior. He was their leader, no doubt, from the awed look of the crew and the chorus of worshipful “Don Krieg!!”’s that echoed around him. If he was going to fight someone, he would have to fight him. 

Naruto straightened up too, and took a step across the water. “I think you should leave.” 

The man raised an eyebrow, and squared his shoulders. “That’s an interesting ability you’ve got there. I’m afraid you’ll need more than parlour tricks to reach my level.” 

“Don’t worry...” Naruto twisted the Kunai in his hand, letting chakra reach the surface of his skin for the first time in years. It hummed and buzzed through him, a warm heat after so long apart... nothing like the raging fire that pooled in his belly. “I can do much more than this.” 

Across the fin, Sanji narrowed his eyes. Naruto had never been much of a fighter, always on the edge of the mob, twisting away from hits and rarely landing his own. He frowned. “That shitty brat...” 

“I’m sorry Sanji,” Gin straightened his dung-bells to eye-level. “Keep your eyes fixed on me.” 

*

Naruto charged. The water rippled as a burst of chakra cut the surface, the kunai sharpened and strengthened as blue energy coursed through them. 

Don Krieg raised his shield. 

Stakes sprayed him, fast and sharp. 

“Fuck...!?” Naruto skidded to a halt and spun, ducking away. He lost his balance as the ocean pitched in rippled, and the rain of stakes clouding the water. 

Pain shot through his leg, just above his knee. It was horrible and intense, and he could hardly breathe as he dragged himself onto the mast. His arms shook and shook. 

He spluttered, snarling half-insults. His leg was near useless, taking no weight. He pulled the stake out with a grunt.

Don Krieg laughed, metal chest catching the dazzling sun. “What’s that look, boy? Did you think fighting Don Krieg, the commander of the Pirate Armada, would be easy?” He laughed again. “You are so green.” 

“Fuck! You fucking bastard piece-of-shit!” Naruto snarled, shaking on all fours. The mast was slippy and freezing, salty grit rubbing his arms raw. He heaved into the wood, ribs rattling. He pushed himself up, onto his knees, and took a shaky step onto the water. What kind of soldier was he, shaking like a newborn? 

Naruto channelled his chakra towards the wound, stepping level to Don Krieg. He gritted his teeth and turned, grim-faced, to stare him down. “My t—”

“I can’t do it!!” A voice called, “Don Krieg!!” 

Don Krieg stared past him. “What?!” 

“I can’t... kill this man!!” The man sobbed, shaking hard, gazing down at Sanji. 

Don Krieg’s gaze turned icy. He shouldered his shield high. “Drop your gas mask, Gin! You are no longer part of this crew.” 

Gin faltered. 

Gas mask... Naruto glared. As if he’d let him try that. He flipped through several seals. “Kage Bunshin no Justu!!” 

Don Krieg’s eyes widened. 

Hundreds of clones raced towards him, spreading over the sea and the wood, leaping over pirate’s heads as they advanced. 

Don Krieg snapped out of his daze, firing randomly at them. The spears punctured, but out of the cloud of mist that arose more poured through. 

And then they were on him, landing useless hit after useless hit. Don Krieg spun, dispelling more and more of the clones until the gritty smoke clouded his vision entirely. 

The little boy’s fists bounced off him hundreds of times, and Don Krieg’s swing could knock at least three out of commission at once. 

Eventually, there was none left, and Krieg glared down at the boy, who was back at where he started. “How pathetic. You didn’t even scratch me.” 

The boy threw something from each hand, glinting silver. Don Krieg’s gasmask. 

“You—!!” Don Krieg glared, and then restrained himself. He cracked his knuckles. “Is that all you are? A dog with a few fancy tricks.” 

Naruto looped the gasmask around his neck and squared up his shoulders, kunai at the ready. He kicked off, sprinting straight for him. 

“Running at me again, dog?! The ocean will drown you just as it does everyone else!!” Don Krieg snapped his shield up, and released a cascade of bombs. 

The wood splintered and scattered, and Naruto turned and leapt, trying to find a flat surface. The smoke and haze spat stakes. They caught him on the shoulder, and the side of his hip. Pain flared and burned in his brain, like his whole leg was on fire. But this time, the pain fuelled him, enraged him, filled him to the brim. 

Naruto burst through the smoke, and stared. 

Don Krieg was covered in glistening spikes. 

Naruto slammed into him from momentum, snagged in a hundred places. Blood pooled against the sheet of knives, his entire body burned with incredible pain. As he tried to pull away, his neck was snagged. 

The gasmask’s leather string twisted in Don Krieg’s hand. 

Naruto struggled, batting his bloody hands against Don Krieg. His mind greyed, and tears welled inside his eyes. Panic stirred in his chest, bile and screams pushed against his throat, trapped by the tight band across his neck. He scrabbled at his neck, twisting and jerking. 

Don Krieg lifted the boy away from him, dangling him by the neck in disgust. “You really are a dog.” He sighed. 

“Naruto!” Sanji cried desperately. 

The horrible panic inside Naruto’s chest soured and grew ragged, the fire from his stomach churned. 

Luffy raised his fist, preparing to attack. 

Don Krieg jerked his hand back, dropping Naruto, blood rolling from heavy bite-marks. “Fang—?”

Naruto surged upwards, clawed hand snatching and disintegrating the porcupine-sheet’s straps. He shoved hard, toppling Don Krieg over, sending them both crashing to the floor. 

Don Krieg’s vision was eclipsed by and glowing red face, teeth bared like knives. Hands closed around his neck. 

It felt as if his neck was burning up, he tried to bat the iron-like grip away from him. The boy had suddenly become immovable, tough and strong as iron. It was as if he was welded in place. 

That sharp grin filled his vision as it bared down on him. Red, magma-like energy flowed over the boy’s body, searing Don Krieg’s skin. “Will you leave now, Tin-Man?” It growled. 

Don Krieg nodded quickly, wincing as the movement met more searing skin. Panic buzzed in his chest. He could hardly breath. 

He laughed like thunder, a rumble through his whole body. The boy shifted his weigh, the balls of his feet pressing into Don Krieg’s stomach. “A little louder...?” He whispered, loosening his grip to allow him breath. 

“I—We, The Don Krieg pirates will leave the Baratie!!” As Don Krieg’s words left his mouth, he felt a horrible surge of guilt and humiliation unlike any he’d ever felt. It was like being cleaved in two. But fear changed a man. 

“Good!!” With a flick of a sharp wrist, he snapped Don Krieg’s neck. 

*

“Are you alright?” 

Naruto peered out from the heavy pile of blankets, blue eyes too-bright like he’d slipped in some sky. He nodded tiredly. “I don’t have any injuries.” He said, very quietly. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Red shoes Zeff knelt next to him, putting a bowl of steaming soup in front of him. 

The steam clouded the window. The sky was impossibly blue, cloudless. The sea moved gently, rocking the Baratie. It was so peaceful. There was still blood crusted on Naruto’s hands. 

“I killed him, didn’t I?” Naruto whispered. 

Zeff looked at him for a long moment, and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it with a quick flick of his wrist. The smoke rose like a ghost in the salty sea air. “Men are killed for lots of reasons at sea. Drinking too much rum, messing around with the marines, misjudging their own power... I think killing to protect your family’s not a sin. I’ve killed men for less.” He blew out the smoke in a long stream. “I think... that’s not all your worried about, eh, egg-head?” 

Naruto nodded, glancing down. He had already been trained in this. He’d had the talks; the will of fire was deep in his chest. Killing was necessary sometimes. It had never been much of a problem, and it wasn’t now. He unfolded himself from the sheets and gingerly picked up a spoon. 

Zeff watched him carefully. He was so unlike the men he usually worked with, it was difficult to read. But he’d learnt to read Sanji, and he’d definitely picked up a few things about the yolk-brat too. He was strong-willed, and naive, but secretive in a way that didn’t suit him and that he wasn’t used to. 

Naruto brought the soup to his lips, but didn’t drink it. After a few moments, he dropped the spoon back in the bowl. “Is Sanji leaving with them—the other pirates?” 

Zeff raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Probably. Sanji always wanted to find the all-blue, after all.” 

Naruto nodded, and shrunk further back into his blankets, stirring his soup a little glumly. 

Zeff smiled. “I’m sure they’ll take you, if you ask.” 

Naruto blinked and stared up at him. Hope flickered in the ocean depths of his eyes, but it flickered out quickly. “No... He doesn’t need two cooks. I don’t want to go with him anyway, it’s too dangerous... I might join another crew, in a few more years.” 

Zeff nodded. “You’re staying then?” 

Naruto looked up at him, eyes wide. “I’m allowed.” 

Zeff guffawed, patting his chest. “Of course!! Baratie is your home, and you mustn’t let anything take that away from you! You are welcome here until they put you in the ground!”

It was the right thing to say. Naruto beamed up at him, stress easing from his face. He picked up his bowl and began gulping down the hot soup, a grin spreading across his face.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a weird one to write, so if it turns out strange while reading, I wouldn't be surprised. For one, I wrote half of this around two years ago, and I could only write the fight scenes to Ke$ha. Weird how things work out, huh? 
> 
> Title from the subtitle on the back of the combined volumes 7-8-9.


End file.
